The Hotter You Burn (The Original Heartbreakers 2)

“If he can do more than drool,” Jessie Kay added, “he’s a stronger man than I am.”

Brook Lynn rolled her eyes. “As if there’s ever been a stronger man than you.”

“This is true.”

Harlow would have given anything to be part of their family. They had such an easy camaraderie. They supported each other, loved each other, no matter what.

Brook Lynn glanced down at her vibrating phone and sighed. “That’s Jase again. He says I’m needed home stat. I swear, ever since he learned Dorian Oliver is coming to town, he’s been freaking out.”

“I should probably stay here,” Jessie Kay said. “You know, as Harlow’s moral compass.”

“You are not inviting yourself on tonight’s date—or into Dorian’s pants,” Brook Lynn told her. “And if you’re a moral compass, I fear for the world.”

“What about you and Daniel Porter?” Harlow asked.

Jessie Kay looked to the floor, hiding her eyes. “We’re still dating, but not exclusive. He just got home from a yearlong military tour and isn’t ready to commit.”

Ugh. He might not be ready, but Jessie Kay surely was. Been there, living that. Harlow reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. The story of my life.”

“You two are depressing.” Brook Lynn tugged her sister to the door. “Come on, let’s go before you make Harlow cry a river.”

They were gone a few seconds later, and Harlow wiped her suddenly sweaty palms on her thighs. This was her first date as an adult woman. Why had she insisted Beck come along? Now she had to rebuff this Dorian guy without looking as if she were rebuffing him, while encouraging Beck without looking as if she were encouraging him.

Easy.

A hard rap exploded at the door, making her gasp. It was six forty-five, and Beck had never been early for anything. She figured the girls had forgotten something and had come back to get it, her smile of welcome fading as the door swung open to reveal Beck dressed in a pin-striped suit, as promised, looking gorgeous and sophisticated and totally out of her league.

A man she’d never met stood next to him, Brook Lynn and Jessie Kay hovering in the background, gaping at him. Jessie Kay even fanned herself and pretended to faint.

Beck whistled with appreciation. “Lord have mercy, hag. You’ve fried my brain. I can’t even stay mad at you for desecrating my bedroom walls.”

“Hag?” the stranger asked.

“A nickname that will likely get some part of Beck removed in the near future,” she said. “And I did not desecrate his walls. I made them better. They were beige.”

Stranger laughed, and she would have sworn fairies wept. “I think I’ll stick with Harlow, then.” He extended his hand. “I’m Dorian Oliver.”

As they shook, she took his measure. He topped out at six foot, an inch shorter than Beck. He had a lion’s mane of pale hair, his eyes a startling mix of smoke and sunset, and his face...

His features were the most symmetrically perfect she’d ever seen. “I want to sketch you,” she blurted out.

Beck stepped in front of him, thin white brackets of strain around his mouth. “There’s no time for that. We have dinner reservations.”

“We?” Dorian asked from behind him.

His gaze never left Harlow. “Did I forget to mention my darling requested a bodyguard?”

His darling? “I’ve changed my mind about that,” she said. “You can stay—”

“Too bad.” Beck gave her the evil eye. “There are no take-backs.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dorian said. “Don’t hate me, but I actually considered asking him to join us when he first called to set us up. I’ve never done the blind date thing, and I wasn’t sure I’d like it.” He winked at her. “I’m a big fan right now.”

Flattered, she smiled at him. “I feel the same. I’ll just...um...” Brain dead much? “I’ll fetch my purse and we can be off.” But all she had to do to “fetch” her purse was reach back and curl her fingers around the handle. So much for a needed reprieve.

Both men offered a hand to help her down the step. Glancing at Beck, all you did this to yourself, she accepted Dorian’s, twining their fingers.

“I have an idea,” she told him. “We’ll pretend Jerkbag isn’t with us.”

Dorian released another magical laugh, and Beck grunted.

“I’ll drive,” he announced when they reached the driveway full of cars.

“Excellent. Harlow and I will sit in back and get to know each other better.” Dorian helped her inside.

Before he could walk around the car and take his own seat, Beck stopped him. The two engaged in a heated conversation for what seemed forever, their voices muffled. She couldn’t understand what they were saying, but was it too much to hope Beck had realized his mistake and was telling the guy to go home?

Apparently it was too much to hope. They got inside, Beck behind the wheel, Dorian in back with her, as planned.

“Anyone want to tell me what that was about?” she asked.

“No,” Beck said.

“Jerkbag gave me a lecture about minding my manners,” Dorian said, amused.

“Were they too good?” she quipped.

Beck reached back and squeezed her knee, making her squeal. Then he had the gall to say, “Are you trying to make me have a wreck? Control yourself back there.”